


Of Warmth

by cactusplant



Category: Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School
Genre: Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Other, gender is fake i think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 11:38:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11356731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cactusplant/pseuds/cactusplant
Summary: Ryotas confused about this whole "love" thing. Does it feel like a blanket?





	Of Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> this was written forever ago due to sleep deprivation. i edited it because of sleep deprivation. i posted this because of sleep deprivation. anyway love makes me feel like i have a fever so heres this. 
> 
> im not projecting at imposters gender at all! no sir not me

Everything around Ryota is warm. 

 

Ryota’s face, his body, the air around him. All warm. All painfully warm, excruciatingly so. Warm didn't cover it anymore, he was burning up. He felt sick again, he always felt sick. 

 

The hand on his face was warm. The pleasant kind, one that made his face turn pink. Something that make him internally happy while he put a cooling pad over his forehead again. The kind of warmth he wanted to feel.

 

He didn't understand what “want” was.

 

He _wanted_ to finish his anime, but what was wanting another person?

 

He wonders if it's the feeling he gets when he hears his door close. A bag rustling while another person sets it next to his desk. The quiet suggestion for him to eat, then the stubborn way they 

 

raise their voice to remind him a 2nd time. 

 

_Is want another kind of warmth?_

 

He sits down beside them, gratefully eating his share of food. Being so close, he feels them brush arms, brush hands... He feels like screaming his lungs out. In panic? Joy? The answers tangle up when he tries to find any. Some sort of odd cowardice of his own head. He continues to let on the small, accidental touches happen while trying to figure out why this is maybe something he really wants. 

 

_Can I avoid this somehow? Do I want to?_

 

Restless, he thinks about their face, their real face. He feels nervous again, cheeks burning up in that same pink shade. A mix of anxiety and feelings of somehow being lighter, happier. A peace of mind while he thinks about how it must feel to be beside them at this moment. Thoughts of a more fulfilled life with them lull him to sleep. 

 

_I wonder if they feel like that too?_

 

Ryota stares down his screen, hearing the door creak open, and his heart starting to beat faster, he feels weaker. Part of him thinks he's sick. Love sick? Love struck? Who knows. Its enough to make them notice, though, and he can feel the unease wash over them. 

 

An “Are you alright?” is calmly spoken to him anyways.

 

They take a knee and closely examine him. His mind turns into spirals and locks, a confused mess of secrets, worries and anxieties and all the warmth that mixes within those feelings. He feels vulnerable, like every thought he has is on broadcast for the world to see, and the audience is sitting right there watching every minute of it.

 

Part of him wants to smile at the idea of him getting to admit something. A guilt-free or guilt-ridden confession that lets Ryota himself understand how he feels.

 

They’re confused, which takes him a bit by surprise. He shakes a bit, the surge of emotions finally wracking his body. It takes everything in him to say anything, but his mouth dries up. His cheeks burn even hotter. He takes their hand into his and gripped it tightly. 

 

He gives an uneasy grin, his eyes giving away something louder than words can. With nothing to take back, he gives them a small murmur of words. 

 

“I...I love you.”

 

He sees their eyes grow wider. His legs tell him to flee, his body screams at him to run away from it, that ‘these emotions too complex for me or you to understand is not something you're ready for’. His hands and heart betray his brain, reaching to cup their face. 

 

They give him a nod, an okay, and they close their eyes. He feels like he doesn't have enough time to appreciate the moment with his hands holding a handsome face, or how someone can accept these feelings. Both one million and one thoughts race around as he tries to parse how lucky he is. 

 

He presses their lips together, nervous but sure, in an awkward way only a boy who has never kissed someone else in his life could deliver. Their lips are soft, warm against his own and he feels like he's somehow disappointing them until they pull away with a look on their face that says everything. 

 

“I was waiting for that.” They say while blushing and giving him an oh-so-smart look. 

 

“Me too.” Ryota replies. 


End file.
